The Martyr
by ImTheHero
Summary: I wrote this before this last week's episode of SPN. Dean and Sam protect a Martyr Castiel entrusts to them so he'll be safe until it's his time.


The day started out as usual. At the moment, Sam and Dean were in between hunts just cruising around. It had been some time since they last saw Castiel so in the meantime they were looking for gigs.

"Sam, it's been weeks. Why isn't anything weird going on?" Dean huffed.

"I don't know. Maybe we're just not hearing about it. But it's really really weird because the hunter community kind of took a blow since the demons so we should be swamped."

"You still keeping tabs on everyone?" Dean snorted took a few notes in his journal. Recently, he'd bought his own since his dad's was out of space.

"Yep, and nothing but the usual, ghosts, vamps, werewolves… it's like-" but Sam didn't get to finish. There was a faint and powerful swooshing noise and a muffled cry of pain. He whirled around to see Castiel looking ragged, his trench coat was torn in multiple spaces, with some dude slung over his shoulders.

"Watch him. He needs attention." Castiel rasped as he flung the guy on the bed and stared at the ceiling. A moment later, he was gone and a sigil had burned itself into the ceiling of their shitty motel room. For a few moments, they were dumbstruck until a small growl of pain made Sam step forward and roll him over. He was just wearing a plain white t-shirt and blue scrub pants, not unlike the ones provided for him at the mental hospital. He had brown creamy skin and his hair was a mop of dreadlocks tied back with a hair tie.

"Well his arm's definitely broken." Sam said and Dean went out to the Impala to grab some supplies.

…

The guy had been shaking and muttering the entire time they were patching him up. He barely registered when they reset the bones in his arm.

"I think he has a fever." Dean said and he fed the guy two more painkillers.

"Well his name is Don Marx." Sam said reading the hospital bracelet they had to cut off his wrist. "I'm gonna go look him up."

"Right." Dean said flipping on the T.V.

After about a half an hour of searching Sam held the laptop screen up for Dean who examined him.

"Ahhh so he's sane, the rest of the world just doesn't know it." Dean smiled.

"Yep, institutionalized after pleading insanity for cutting off the head of a vamp." They had run into the Vampire in question before, but the stupid trick had gotten away. "So he's either a hunter, or some dude who really did just plead insanity to get out of a prison sentence."

"Unfortunately he is neither." Came a low rumble from the corner of the room. Castiel emerged looking worse than before. A pair of huge bluish black wings looked as though they were barely keeping themselves up let alone stay cloaked. They had only seen Castiel's wings when he was so run down that it was easier to make them visible rather than to cloak them all together.

"Well then what is he?" Sam asked.

"A Martyr." Cas answered and sat in one of the spare chairs at their tiny table. "He's destined to die for a very very important cause. I don't know exactly what that cause is, but his day will come. Demons have recently been hunting down martyrs and killing them before their time and it is becoming increasingly dangerous for them and the rest of the humans. The angels have been pairing martyrs with trusted affiliates and you're on that list." Castiel explained, entirely not in the mood to answer stupid questions.

"And for those of us who skipped bible school, what's a martyr?" Dean asked.

"A martyr is a person who dies for what they believe in or some kind of cause…" Sam answered examining Don at a different angle.

"An example of one would be Jesus Christ." Castiel answered warily and laid his head on the table. At this Dean froze and went wide eyed.

"Are you kidding me!? We have the freakin messiah in witness protection!?" Dean hissed.

"Don is not the messiah, he's a martyr. Jesus was both." Cas answered shortly. "but he is just as important." Before Dean could snap back at him Don shifted a little and groaned.

"Don't fight…" were the only words he mumbled before he fell back asleep.

Something about the guy's voice lifted the tension in the room. Dean just felt himself relax. Granted it was only a little bit, but it was enough to notice.

"Was that-?"

"Did he-?"

Sam and Dean sputtered at the same time.

"Martyrs have adopted the abillity to calm those around them when they speak. Have you ever heard an unplaceable accent that was just barely there from a person who was special? Thats a very very slight Enochian accent."

"Martyrs can speak enochian?" Sam asked in disbelief

"No. Enochian is a language of emotion and intention. One word means many things." The next thing Castiel did blew both Sam and Dean away, almost literally. He said one word. and they felt like a crater had just been punched through their hearts. Sam, who'd unfortunately been standing at the time, fell to his knees, and Dean curled in on himself and fought back tears. Sam was the first to recover, wiping tears from his eyes and fighting to breathe.

"Wh-what was that?" he asked looking at Castiel in awe.

"The closest I can think of in your language; it is the word 'Hero'." Castiel answered. "If Don were to say the same word in your language it would not affect you in such a way. My intent was so show you all possible meanings and emotions related to the word, so when I said it in Enochian, that's what you felt. Apologies for your inconvenience."

"Yeah, accepted Cas." Dean said breathlessly. Sometimes he forgot that if Castiel thought about it hard enough, he could kill him.

"S-so... how long are we supposed to... protect this guy?" Sam asked.

"Until it is his time." Castiel said with a hint of sadness in his voice. "I must go before he wakes. I will come back and introduce myself at a later date..." He said before fluttering off. The silence in the room was only penetrated when Sam coughed to break it up.

"So... do you think he knows how to hunt?" he asked.

"I doubt it. He landed himself in a mental hospital instead of getting rid of the body. It was probably incidental." Dean said. "Let's get him packed up and get him in the car, I don't think we should stick around if demons are after him."

...

"Where... he's ...-y? ...Sa... look. He's ... up."

The words were broken as he was thrown in and out of consciousness. Don's entire body felt like he got hit by a truck. But then again, the last thing he remembered was being kidnapped from the hospital and thrown around in an ambulance. Though all thoughts were stopped when someone tapped his face a couple times.

"I know it sucks but you gotta wake up buddy, you've been asleep for about 10 hours and we need to know if you have a concussion." A growly voice insisted.

"Nnooooo..." Don groaned in protest and shifted to try and cover his eyes.

"Buddy, you're not five. Get up." the voice said shortly. Don's eyes finally cracked open and they were a stunning stone blue, ice green, and earth tan.

"Where 'm I?" he asked, then as he sat up his memory flooded back and he backed himself into the corner of the backseat with a growl, "Are you a demon!?" he demanded, sweeping a few of his dreadlocks out of his face.

"Heh, that's a good one." Dean chuckled, "I'm not a demon. I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam. Castiel, who you may or may not know, dropped you with us for safekeeping." Don's eyes pierced Deans right through to his soul and Dean fought the urge to look away.

"Well you're not lying..." he said cautiously. "Who did you say dropped me off here?"

"Castiel."

"The angel? I didn't know they actually existed." He said with a faint smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"You hungry? We're about to pass through Mesa."

"Mesa? but I was in New York..." Don muttered.

"Angels _do_ fly, Don." Dean said and turned back to face the road.

"Oh..." was all Don said before letting his head rest on the glass, "I guess we should stop, but I look like an actual mental hospital patient in these."

"Speaking of which, did you know that the guy was a vampire when you cut off his head?" Sam asked. "We read the article on you on the internet."

"Yeah. My grandma could see them too... well, it's not so much seeing as it is just kind of knowing... it's that feeling you get when someone's standing really really close to you even though you can't see them. You just kind of know they're there."

"Gotcha, 6th sense." Dean said and drummed the dashboard.

...

One of the things they found out about Don right away was that he ate more food than it looked like his body could hold. It was actually slightly scary... he also didn't talk much, especially when he was eating. He wasn't picky about his clothes either. Painfully plain t-shirts and a few pairs of cheap jeans and he was set. In essence he was a great traveling buddy for the Winchesters.

However... he did complain pretty loudly when it came to being left alone. He hated it, but he couldn't hunt. He didn't like guns and they didn't know how well he could handle himself in a fist fight. So Don was often left alone in the rat hole that they were currently occupying. After being with him for a few weeks, of course Sam and Dean fucking panicked when Don wasn't there when they got back one night. Of course, their sleep deprived minds thought it was night when it was really 3:30 pm.

They didn't have to look very hard. A drive down the road revealed Don making a scene and standing between a couple beat up, terrified street kids and what looked like a gang.

"He _said_ leave him _alone_..." Don snapped tightening his grip around a heavy looking stick.

"What 'chu gonna do about it half n' half?" the guy who looked like the leader smirked and shoved Don. At this something in Don sparked and he went from wrathful to calm as the air chilled and he moved faster than both Winchesters have ever seen. If they blinked they would've missed the fight completely.

The gang was sent packing while Don threw the stick as hard as he could at the leader. He said a few things to the kids and then saw Sam and Dean across the street. He trotted over and that's when they saw that he wasn't completely untouched. He was clutching at his ribs a little and he had the beginnings of a nasty bruise on the side of on his face. It was bleeding a little where he was scraped.

"One of those guys was wearing those really tacky rings." he explained sheepishly wiping his face on his t-shirt.

"What the hell were you doing you could've died." Dean snarled.

"What's the point in living if you don't leave the world a little brighter than when you entered?" Don shot right back. "Do you know how many homeless kids are unwillingly dragged into gangs? Too many, Dean. I don't like it so I'm doing something about it." he said with finality and climbed into the back seat without another word.

...

After another week or so, Castiel finally showed up but before he could say anything to Don, Dean grabbed him by the arm and physically hauled him out of their room.

"Castiel, _do not_ tell this kid that he's a martyr." Dean said quietly.

"Why?" Cas asked, head tilting slightly in confusion.

"He..." Dean bit his lip and shifted, trying to form his words. "He's already willing to lay his life on the line for just two kids... how do you think he'd feel if you told him he was born to die? That that was his only purpose in life?" Dean asked. "Right now, he has something to fight for, but he might not want to die. He might throw his life away too soon, for the wrong reason. He might go dark side... I know what knowing you're gonna die does to you, Cas. You give up, you don't see the point in anything, you wake up in the morning wondering why you're even still breathing. It messes you up Castiel and I don't think this kid should know." Dean sighed and looked him in the eyes. For a moment, Castiel didn't say anything. He stared back, mulling over Dean's words and glanced back at Don through the window.

"Very well... although i still do think i should make myself known." Castiel said. Dean nodded and led them back inside.

Don was currently helping Sam do some research, but the moment Cas and Dean walked in Don looked up and smiled at Cas.

"You must be the angel!" he said brightly and stood to shake Cas's hand. "I owe you for saving me."

"You are in no debt to me, Don." Cas said, nodding to him.

...

They were at Bobby's place. It was six in the morning. Everyone was awake, and sitting in companionable silence in the kitchen eating cereal. But something was off about Don. He wasn't quiet lately... he was graveyard silent. The Winchesters knew the difference well. Quiet was thoughtful, warm and peaceful. it was rare around them but they knew what it was. Silence was choking, suffering, cold and dead. They were around it too much to be ignored.

"You okay?" Sam asked with half a yawn.

"I... I really don't know." Don said. "I don't think so." A tear rolled down his cheek as he stared out the window.

Bobby, Sam and Dean pretended not to see it.

...

They could practically feel it. This day, this time...

It has been four months since Don had been with them. He'd grown on them and they learned a lot about him.

Dean and Don would butt heads on occasion when Don wasn't busy being quiet. They also found out (in the worst of ways) that Don couldn't drive. He used to live in the city so he just walked everywhere. He had a phobia of cats, was allergic to dogs, he hated strawberries, he excelled in pick-pocketing...

When they woke up that morning, the air was stiff and lifeless. It clung to them like a parasite.

They were walking out of a crowded bar with a bunch of other people when they heard it.

Some asshole was yelling at his girlfriend across the street other people noticed but only shook their heads and lit up their cigarettes. Don was as tense as a hawk spotting a mouse. Then they all heard it, a slap and then a fist, and a scream. everyone turned to look but only Don was fool enough to snatch the knife at the small of Sam's back and run across the street. He lept over a parked car and punched that bastard clean in the face. Sam and Dean nearly got hit by a couple cars before they finally made it across the street. They heard the gunshots before they dodged around the cars.

The guy tried to run but Sam's legs took care of that.

"DONNY!" Dean shouted and crouched next to him. It was the worst possible hit. He took two shots, on in the leg and one in the gut, a nearly impossible fix. "God Donny! You shoulda waited for us." Dean looked at the girl who was crouched next to Donny too as Dean called 9-1-1.

"I'm so sorry! This is my fault- I- oh my god- oh my god!" She sobbed. Donny choked out a smile and put his clean hand on her face.

"You didn't do anything wrong."

...

The worst part about it is that he didn't die right away. He made it to the hospital with Sam riding in the ambulance with him. Then entire time he was talking to Sam, he wanted him to write everything he said down. He wanted it in the newspaper. Sam used his FBI note pad to write everything down and he had to stop a few times to stop himself from crying.

"Sam. Tell Dean I love him... he needs to hear it from someone... I love you too... you guys, we didn't know eachother very long... but you guys 're like brothers to me..."

"Donny, just shut up. You're gonna make it."

"Don't be stupid Sam, I'm barely alive right now... I barely know what I'm saying but I know it's the truth... I love you guys... Don't blame yourselves... if you do I swear to Cas I'll make him punch both of you." Don chuckled, then his eyes rolled back into his head and he was gone. Sam didn't realize that he'd been holding his hand until he pulled his hand away and found it covered in blood.

...

They'd spent a lot of time building Don's casket. They also bought him a good headstone. The casket was made from some of pine trees in the forrest by Bobby's, both Sam and Dean carved the sides beautifully.

Bobby worked on carving the headstone for days and when it was finished they buried him next to Rufus. He would've liked Don.

On the headstone they put his name and dates... but they also put what he said on it as well...

...

_ "Sam, write this down, please"_

_ "Donny, please, just- You're not gonna die-"_

_ "Sam... please... I want it in the paper..."_

_ Sam dug out his notepad and nodded, waiting for him._

_..._

_ "The point in living is to enter the world and leave it better than when you've arrived... My entire family would talk like that, but only my grandmother and I would act on it. I grew up in Harlem, and not every kid can survive that. My grandmother saved as many kids as she could, and so did I. She was the only one who wanted me after my mom died. There's so much pain in this world, I cannot understand how anyone could cause anymore, but I want to ask everyone who reads this, what will you do to make the world better than when you entered it? Just one thing, no matter how small or big... do something about it... please... It will mean something to someone. I promise. And for those of you who need it, I love you. You know who you are and you deserve it, I mean it. I love you."_

...

"'Today we got a note from a person who wishes to remain anonymous about a remarkable young man who died to protect a young woman from her abusive boyfriend. In this note he said that this man's last wish was for his final words to be read on the news. After reviewing his words we couldn't ignore something like this-'" The anchorlady read it professionally but you could see in her eyes that she took Don's words to heart.

They felt the pang echo through them. They missed Donny, but they didn't talk about him much after seeing his words on the news. They heard little things from the internet, someone set up a charity in his name for homeless kids and battered wives or husbands. They read success stories on their website over the months they visited him whenever they could. After a year they almost forgot about him, until they saw some kid protecting a brother and sister from some bullies on his own, brandishing a stick. They walked over and broke up the tension, killed the ghost, and went to visit Donny for the first time in months.

Sam and Dean could almost feel him there, hear him talking.

"Hey guys, thought you forgot me." his smile was joking, and his eyes were intense. They didn't realize that Cas had come to visit as well until he moved to stand in between them.

"Don told me to tell you me misses you too."


End file.
